Just A Bit Of Practice
by headoverconverse
Summary: Ariadne gets some practice by interrogating Arthur's subconcious with Eames. But will she learn some things he doesnt want her to know? Ariadne/Arthur because I'm a hopeless romantic...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! So, first Inception fanfic, and I would LOVE feedback. Tell me if I should continue or not? Still deciding.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Inception. Or Arthur. *sob***

"This is a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" Ariadne eyed Eames, trying to figure out the method behind his madness. "No, not at all." He gestured vaguely towards Arthur. "As I keep trying to tell you, love, he volunteered. I mean, honestly, I think he's mad, but that's just my lowly opinion." Arthur grimaced at Eames, and situated himself on a lawn chair, avoiding her gaze.

"You can't keep going out into the field without learning the proper techniques. Otherwise, the next thing we know you'll turn up in Limbo, with nothing but sandy beaches for company." "And we know how well _that _always turns out." Eames, ever the charmer, interrupted the steady flow of Arthur's explanation. He adamantly continued. "We're just trying to protect you, Ariadne. And without Cobb…well, we need to be more careful." "And I say, take risks!" "Shut it, Eames."

Ariadne found herself determinedly staring at her scarf instead of Arthur. She needed to concentrate, and found it somewhat difficult with his damn brown eyes burrowing into her. They both waited patiently for her to acquiesce to their request, but she knew it wasn't right to mess with anyone's mind like that, even for some practice.

"Arthur…" She paused a bit, unsure of where her mind was going with the decision. Hell, she wasn't even sure where they stood. Tensions had been high when he had fleetingly kissed her inside Fissure's mind, and who's to say it had even been real? Lately, Ariadne had been shaky on her feet in the real world after spending moments in Limbo. She would find herself blurring dreams with real memories, and then things became muddled. Constantly she was slipping her hand in her pocket to feel for her grip on reality, her totem, just to reinforce the idea that this was indeed happening. That her life was happening. She took a breath.

"Arthur, I can't – I can't practice extraction on you. It's too…" Ariadne couldn't finish. Not that she knew what she was going to say, anyways. Eames decided for her. "Well, love, you have to practice on somebody, and I'm certainly not going to volunteer my admirable services." Arthur rolled his eyes at the word 'admirable' but Eames appeared not to notice. "The last thing we need is an inexperienced agent on our team." His tone was abruptly businesslike, and she could tell he was imagining all the ways it could go wrong with just the three of them.

She debated, wrestling with her morale over her desire to be more of an asset to them. Catching her off guard, Arthur moved to sit beside her, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. Some emotion rushed through her at the touch, sending shivers up her spine and rendering her speechless.

"Ariadne, I swear to you, I'd rather you practice this now than see you get hurt." Eames coughed obnoxiously, shattering the moment. Ariadne wished she could pick the pieces back up and replay it over and over again.

But beneath his composure, Arthur was slightly fearful. Who knows what she could uncover in the recesses of his subconscious? He wasn't even completely sure what he locked down there. And what if it was more dangerous than he had originally anticipated?

Oblivious to his frantic thoughts, Ariadne cautiously gave her answer. "Alright, then."

Grinning triumphantly, Eames set up the light sedative quickly, as if he had known her answer. To be fair, he probably had. She couldn't face the effect Arthur had on her with coherency. How was she expected to make an unbiased decision with that kind of distraction? Carefully, she leaned back into her chair, and Arthur situated himself in the smaller one next to her. They looked at each other, and Ariadne felt the need to throw something out into the silence, her heart, or maybe just this growing feeling inside of her that seemed impossible to define. Just when she thought she was going to explode from the crushing tension, the listlessness of the sedative spread through her system, and her eyes slipped closed.

XXX

Wet.

Cold.

Ariadne tried to breathe but instead found herself with a mouthful of water. Desperately, she tried to claw her way to the surface, but there was no way out of the darkness. It pressed in around her, blinding her, leaving her to panic and reach for something that wasn't there. Screams, in her mind, as she felt herself sinking.

Before she could plunge any further, a point of warmth enveloped around her wrist, fingers locked to drag her to the surface. Suddenly, all at once, she was overcome with a broken trail of images. Eames's unhappy face beside her, blinding light, coughing, spluttering as she choked up the water and replaced it with air. Gathering herself enough to look around, Ariadne perceived a long expanse of lake, surrounded by looming trees that gathered together to form an ominous forest. Squinting her eyes, she picked up a lone door resting comfortably on the far bank, completely out of place in the stark wilderness.

"We're just getting started, darling, I don't think you want to leave just yet." He supported her a bit in the freezing water, noticing that she was shaking. "I'm fine," Ariadne replied sharply to the concerned look in his eyes. Despite what the rest of them thought, just because she was the only woman didn't mean she wasn't capable. As if to prove her silent point, she deftly began to swim towards the door, her thoughts racing.

Where the hell were they, anyway? Arthur's mind, obviously, but this bottomless lake didn't offer much insight into his personality, or much of anything for that matter. Nervously, almost feverishly, she finally reached the shore and collapsed tiredly. Ariadne hated a lot about water, but if she had to pick one thing it would defiantly be near-drowning experiences. Eames, following closely and smirking slightly, gracefully pulled himself up out of the water.

"Next time, warn me or something before we end up in the middle of a lake." Ariadne muttered venomously. "What did you have in mind? A reminder to bring your floaties?"

Shaking her head at him angrily, she walked over to the door. "Eames." Something about her serious tone must have stopped him from making a condescending reply. "Are you sure we're going to like what we find in here?"

The silence around them had never seemed so loud. Adriadne was frozen, hand poised on the burnished metal handle to the dark, blackened doorway before them. It felt like ages, or maybe no time at all when Eames spoke. "Ariadne, you heard Arthur. We'd rather you get hurt here, where you're safe, than out in the field, where it's going to count." "Personally, I'd rather like to avoid getting hurt altogether…" she grumbled, but a bit of her worry had floated away at his firm assurances. Almost confidently, she gripped the handle, bracing herself to pull it open.

She knew what she had to do.


	2. Chapter 2

XXX

When the door opened, Eames and Ariadne were not prepared for what lay waiting. The narrow, dirty ally of a city stretched out before them. It was the kind of ally that you preferred to see from a distance, because up close, the dirt and grime was almost knee deep. Eames grinned. "Just what I expected from Arthur." Choosing to disregard his obvious disdain, Ariadne delicately shut the door behind her, and they entered the city within Arthur's mind.

Feeling slightly apprehensive, she glanced around her, searching for projections. "We'd better hurry. It seems…wrong to be violating him like this." "That could be taken so many ways, love…" Eames suggestively prodded. He too, observed the dreamscape around them. The city sprawled in front of them, full of darkened shop windows, looming buildings, forlorn trees. But oddly, no people. "Maybe we're not in deep enough…?" Ariadne pondered aloud. Eames eagerly speculated with her. "I'm sure Arthur will not reveal his dirty secrets willingly. We'll have to beat it out of him."

A loud clicking noise split the silent air from abruptly from behind them. Whipping around in utter surprise, Ariadne saw vaguely ordinary man standing a few feet away. Vaguely ordinary, that is, except for the large gun held confidently in his grip. Eames swore.

And the gunfire started. It was as if the lone man had set off a chain reaction. Bullets rained all around them, ricocheting on the stone and chipping pieces from the concrete of the street. Before she knew it, Eames had leapt on her, throwing them both back into the ally. _Not real, not real, not real. _Ariadne repeated the mantra in her head, like a long, sad slow song. But her body betrayed her real fear. Her hands trembled violently, and short gasps came quickly through her clenched teeth. The two invaders rolled deep into the ally's concealing darkness, hopefully out of the projection's range. "Why is Arthur this hostile?" Ariadne choked out as they sheltered behind a wall. Eames, who seemed to be concentrating deeply, distractedly answered her. "Sometimes, it's hard to control our own subconscious. As you know…Cobb has that problem. Arthur's just protecting himself from attack, the bloody idiot." Blinking in astonishment, Ariadne watched as Eames pulled a gigantic weapon out of nowhere. "This'll give them something to think about."

Smirking grimly, he peeked his ridiculous gun…thing around the corner and aimed it at the projections. The noise that emanated from it was enough to make Ariadne's ears ring and head pound. The sound of the loud, accompanying explosion caused her to close her eyes. _Concentrate, Ariadne, concentrate. How can we break into his mind? _

She opened her mouth in wonder. How had she not thought of this before? "Eames!" Ariadne yelled over the sounds of the attack. He turned back to her. "Don't know if you've noticed, darling, but I'm a bit busy at the moment…" He fired at them again, sending smoke swirling around the air. As if she had known it was there, Ariadne motioned to a fire escape beside them leading to the roof of the closest building. "Come on!" She gripped the rusty rung of an unused ladder and began the slow ascent. It was an electrifying thing to climb to the top of a frighteningly tall building amid heavy gunfire. Not something she necessarily wanted to do, but what choice did they have? In order to go deeper, Ariadne knew they had to get away from Arthur's projections. Or at least, the dangerous murdering ones.

She glanced behind her to check if Eames was following. He was, sending warning shots behind them every few seconds. With some relief, she finally pulled herself up over the edge. A view of a seemingly un-ending cityscape greeted her. Below was a crowd of furious projections, carrying weapons that ranged from knives to flamethrowers.

Why in the hell would Arthur need flamethrowers?

Shaking her head to clear it, she looked at Eames expectantly. "What? I thought you had the plan!" he replied to her stare. "I still do," Ariadne shot back. "Look closer at the ground." Eames complied grudgingly, warily peering over the edge. "You're not saying we need to-" "-take a leap of faith? Well, I figured we needed a birds-eye view."

Directly below the building, only seen from above, a paradoxical hole stared up at them. "No. No way." Eames stepped back in defeat. "You can't be serious. Are you serious?" "Deadly." Ariadne determinedly grinned. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

Eames looked at her in outrage. "Me? Scared?" "Then let's take that leap." She beamed at him one last time before throwing herself off the building and right into the arms of fate.

XXX

Ariadne's hand broke the surface of the dirt.

"What the hell-" she heard from somewhere to her left. Looking around curiously, she saw Eames poking his head out of the loose gravel that surrounded them. "Leave it to Arthur to drown us, shoot at us, and bury us alive." Ariadne interrupted his sullen mumblings. "Speaking of, where is Arthur?" Eames looked unconcerned as he pulled himself out of the shallow hole they seemed to be in. "Oh, the bastard will show up eventually. Most likely later, after we've been thrown off a cliff or something of that sort."

Completely distracted as they climbed out, Ariadne gaped at the scene they had been thrown into unceremoniously. It was darkened graveyard, filled with hundreds upon hundreds of graves. Ariadne looked at the two shallow ones they had just climbed out of and suppressed a shudder. "Well, well, looks like our Arthur has a few skeletons buried in his…ahm, closet."

"Look!" Ariadne whispered. A few feet ahead stood two more projections, a tall, gloomy man and a small petite woman with red-brown hair. "Do they have guns too?" Eames grumbled sarcastically. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Don't we need to interrogate them, or something?" Eames held his hands up in an unconvincing show of innocence. "This is your party, love."

Squaring her shoulders with determination, Ariadne walked right up to the mourning projections, careful to look nonchalant. "Hello," she murmured respectfully, talking a quick glance at the grave the man and woman seemed so immersed in.

_Here lies Ariadne Bishop, beloved friend, daughter –_

The words started to blur before her eyes, she could barely see anything. The world was spinning, her legs turned to water and she careened towards the ground. Blackness started to attack the edges of her vision. Suddenly, a warm embrace curled around her, supporting her sanity. "Ariadne?" The voice whispered, sounding like-

"Arthur?" She breathed, but the arms released her. She refused to succumb to gravity, instead focusing on the face above her. "Lady, are you alright?" The man and woman were looking at her, concerned. She glanced around, surely she couldn't have imagined-

"Hello?" the dark haired man continued to speak to her. He really was quite attractive, in a rugged sort of way. His blue eyes reminded her eerily of… "I'm fine, really. I just-" She looked down again at the graves, unable to resist. There was her name, clearly inscribed as if she had died just a day ago. Next was Cobb's, and Eames…the list went on, some names Ariadne couldn't recognize. What was this place? _Okay, concentrate on the task at hand, _she berated herself firmly. _Don't try to unravel the mysteries of Arthur's subconscious. That is not why we're here. _

"Who are you?" She began to question the projections. "I'm Cobb, and this is my wife, Moll." Ariadne's head reeled, and she was torn between the absurd desire to laugh and cry all at once. She almost cringed when Moll offered her hand. This Moll was a very poor replica of Dom's shadowy wife, nearly unrecognizable. But the general signs were there…Ariadne berated herself for not realizing earlier. Bringing herself back into the conversation, she cautiously shook Moll's hand, surreptitiously poised to duck if they both pulled guns. But no, they were completely comfortable in the surroundings. One could not say the same for Eames, who hovered uneasily behind her, just as surprised at the markings on the graves. Clearly they were farther in than Arthur had intended for them to go in the first place.

Just what else would they find?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello! May I just say, THANKS! I don't want to bore you with a really long and annoying author's note, so I won't ramble too much. Firstly, I want to apologize for all the dumb mistakes I made with spelling…ect. Usually, inspiration for writing seems to hit me at three in the morning, to my intense annoyance. So I'm usually half asleep. Secondly, I have no idea where to go with this story, so any ideas would be welcome! **_

Ariadne noticed that Mal had stopped talking.

Eerily, everything went quiet until the only sound was Eames's shallow breathing beside her. Something freezing blew onto her face, and she looked up to find that it was snowing. Gentle flakes rained down from the heavens of Arthur's subconscious, quickly gathering amongst the graves. Cobb and Mal just turned away without saying goodbye to either of them. Disturbingly, their feet left no imprint in the fallen snow.

"Well, I'd _like _to say that that was fun, but I do not enjoy lying."

"Eames, we should ask them something else…" Ariadne watched the two retreating figures.

"Darling, I don't know about you, but this whole thing is just getting a bit too…how can I put this delicately…offensive for my liking. It seems as if Arthur has a few things he needs to work out-" Eames gestured ominously towards his own grave. "-but I knew that already."

"Really, what are we trying to find out, anyways? What are we looking for?" Ariadne desolately sat down on one of the cold, unforgiving gravestones.

"I was hoping for an embarrassing snapshot of him as a naked baby, or something of that sort, but I haven't seen one lying around quite yet."

"I'm supposed to be practicing extraction, and all we've managed to practice is getting shot at!" She agitatedly started pacing. "We need to find a way out of this graveyard. We have to go deeper."

"Just how deep are you planning on going? There are only so many levels, Ariadne. Something has to give eventually, and we'll be pushing it if we go any further." Eames ran a hand through his hair, and a whole lot of dirt fell out onto the ground.

"I just…" she couldn't continue. What did she think she was _doing_? Sure, she…cared for Arthur. More than she should, that was for sure. Ariadne wasn't stupid, and it was illogical and impractical to deny that she felt something for him. She shivered, but knew it wasn't because of the snow. Every time she thought about him…

"Hello? Earth to Architect? As I said before, this is your affair, love. You make the next move, and I follow like a lost puppy." Ariadne frowned at him before replying.

"We have to go on." Determined and anxious to be away from the gloomy underworld of death, she hurriedly started walking. Unfortunately, as aggravated as she was, she forgot to look where she was going. "Argh!" With a yell, she plunged into a recently dug grave, and was soon up to her knees in mud and muck, sinking fast. Somehow, the snow had quickly morphed into rain, the torrential downpour mixing with the dirt and grime in the bottom of the hole.

"Bloody hell!" similarly, Eames joined her, dropping right into the pit alongside her. Frantically, they both tried to fight their way out of the filthy mess surrounding them.

"It's no use," Ariadne tiredly panted after they were both thoroughly splattered, soaked, and still sinking.

"It was an honor." Eames jokingly held out a hand to her in farewell just as a silhouette of a man appeared above them.

"Arthur." Ariadne murmured with relief.

"About bloody time you showed up!" Eames yelled up to his unmoving form. "Get us out of here, will you?" But instead of jumping into the disgusting pool of slime, he stood and watched as they sank lower and lower. Only when they had both been covered up to their necks, and it was indeed quite clear that Arthur was making no rescue attempt, did Ariadne speak.

"Are you letting us drown?" A barely perceptible nod came in response. She screamed her last word up to him just as the mud reached her chin, crawling up towards her eyes. "Why!" No answer.

Truly, she had not understood the meaning of agony until now, as the blackness eclipsed her vision, with heavy, smothering pressure around her…it was like drowning, except somehow worse. There was no one to hear you crying desperately in your head for help…_please God, let it end…it's not real, it's not real, it's all in your head…_But the constant reminder didn't make it any easier. It was all too simple to believe she would never see the sun again as she prepared to take her last breath.

But what…something shone just ahead of her, a light that was growing bigger and bigger…before she could think anything else, the light engulfed her and dragged her out of the murky end. Gasping, she resurfaced to realize she wasn't in the graveyard anymore. Utterly confused, Ariadne found herself climbing up onto the dock of a marina. But instead of boats, the long path led to crowd of people jumping up and down in an outdoor rock concert. Ariadne subconsciously felt herself humming along to a familiar Beatles song as a disgruntled Eames pulled himself up beside her.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to worry about him…" He venomously hissed. They had gone deeper, that was for certain. The sky was a shimmering mirage of blues and reds and yellows, which merged together to complete the most beautiful sunset ever created. It was as if he had taken bits and pieces of the sunsets in his past and mixed them like they were paints.

"Arthur…" Ariadne sighed. Eames looked at her and snorted.

"You got it bad, love." He smirked when a delicate blush bloomed across her face.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about." She walked away, but as promised, Eames followed her like a lost puppy.

"That's what you _want _me to think." He smugly bounced ahead of her and pointed to one of the screaming fans at the concert. "Well, here is a perfect opportunity to find his hidden information. You just go talk to some of these lovely folks and I'll meet up with you later." Eames then walked off with a cheery wave. Cautiously, Ariadne approached one of the girls standing slightly off to the side. The girl looked uneasy; she kept twisting her scarf through her fingers worriedly.

"Great concert, huh?" Ariadne sidled up next to her, looking at the distant band up on stage.

"Sure." The girl replied amiably, not really caring.

"Sorry, you seem a bit…is anything wrong?" Ariadne waited patiently for her to her to speak as the seconds grew into minutes, and the minutes grew to what seemed like hours. Finally, she looked up.

"I didn't really want to come, you know. But they made me…" she indicated a couple of her screaming friends. Ariadne sympathized with her; she could remember many, many concerts she would have preferred avoiding. "It's this guy…" the girl sighed, biting her lip in hidden anguish.

"I'm listening."

"Well, I…ahm, I really like him. More than…more than I should. But he…doesn't care." Her tone had turned bitter, furiously bitter. Her hands balled into fists. "I don't think that's right, do you? Love shouldn't _be _like that! If you give someone your heart…well, they should be able to hold onto it without breaking it. But every time I seem to give out my heart, it comes back all cracked and in pieces. So now here I am, at a concert I didn't want to go to, thinking about a guy who doesn't give a damn, confessing my life story to a complete stranger!"

"I...what's your name?"

"Ariadne."


	4. Chapter 4

**I am SO sorry this took me so long! I've been busy drowning in the amount of Chemistry homework our teacher has so graciously decided to dump upon us...Just wanted to give a super quick shoutout to my girl Alyssa for so much help with this story! You would not be reading this if it weren't for her. **

**Ps. Any ideas/feedback would be welcome :D Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I own some pie, but not Inception.**

"You-" Ariadne was spinning, her thoughts were tumbling over each other in their frantic desire to exit her mouth. Illogically, she glanced around; half believing she would see an army of clones running over with weapons of mass destruction. "Dammit…dammit…" She was looking at _herself. _Well, Arthur's poor copy of herself. She…or rather, it was _stunning. _No wonder she hadn't recognized the resemblance at first for what it was really no other word for it. Her skin was flawless, perfect white, a never ending canvas of beauty. Her hair contrasted beautifully, falling down gently in waves of bronze interwoven with brown. There was almost a glowing quality to her whole body, as if Arthur saw her like that constantly. All in all, it was a totally warped copy.

"Look, I'm sorry…" The other Ariadne seemed uneasy and regarded her warily. All the conversations stopped around them, and the projections turned to look at her. She knew she had to fix this before things got serious.

"No, it's my fault; I just realized I had to meet my friend. I'm late. And about the boy…well, love is a funny thing." A very, very funny thing. Before she could catch herself, she kept talking. "I think you should talk to him, and tell him how you really feel. All this dancing around...life is too short! You can't wait…you can't have ….regrets…" The projections closed in around her, surrounding them both in a tightly knit circle. Ariadne's eyes were wide now; she frantically searched for a way out of the mess she had gotten herself into. Her copy glared at her, one of Arthur's subconscious protectors pulled out a knife. Ariadne felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Which, by no means, was a good thing.

"Thanks, but I think I'll be fine without you." Ariadne's double started spouting nonsense. "We'll have a happier life without you. I can't keep chasing! It almost hurts too much. And you…your eyes a beautiful! I could never copy them completely…my subconscious could never do them justice. I could never do you justice."

"I'm not good enough for you, Ariadne." Somehow, impossibly, the copy of Ariadne's voice melded seamlessly into Arthur's. The projections continued to close in around her, but everything looked different, now. The colors were sharper, the angles were softer. Even the knife didn't look quite as threatening as Arthur's arms captured her from behind.

"That's ridiculous." Barely coherent, Ariadne choked out the words. She closed her eyes, savoring the feelings that coursed through her like a raging tide. What a mistake that turned out to be.

"ARIADNE!" It was screamed, desperately, by Eames. Alarmed, she wrenched her eyes open furiously. The knife point was on its way to her heart, but was knocked out of its path by a raging Arthur. His eyes glinted with the light cast from the sunset. His own sunset.

"GO! Go now!" Arthur warned her away while struggling with the projection fearlessly brandishing the knife. Ariadne threw herself into the tide of bodies pressing in, beating her way mercilessly through them.

"Eames! Where-" Before she could complete her cry, Eames grabbed her wrist as they flew up towards the stage with fearful abandon. Soon, half the crowd was after them.

"Did you find anything interesting, love?" Eames shouted as they ran.

"Ahm…nothing, really." She managed to blush _while _running.

"Honestly, I'd sure like to hear about this 'nothing'that you found. But I guess that can wait-" He paused to execute a well aimed punch at one of their pursuers. "-what I found is much more interesting." He smugly brandished a few letters, each one addressed to a different person. "Arthur's mind is more troubled than we thought. One of them is for you." Ariadne raised her eyebrow.

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was love, but I don't think it can get any cornier, so you're safe where that's concerned." She chose to overlook his comment, too caught up with the fact that Arthur would have written her a letter and then locked it up in his subconscious. What could that mean?

Finally, they reached the stage. In one leap, Eames landed perfectly and waited for her to follow. Distracted, Ariadne aimed for the stage but mistimed her jump.

"Shit!" She slammed into the wood, effectively driving all the breath out of her lungs and leaving her clutching her stomach and gasping for air. Ariadne collapsed on the grass in front of the stage, several feet below Eames. The projections seemed to have effectively restrained Arthur, and everything was a miserable confusion of noise and sound. One of the approaching men pulled a gun. Seriously panicking now, Eames yelled and screamed from a few feet above her, but all the meaningless sound roared in her ears, obscuring thought. Dazed, she looked into the barrel of the gun, pointed directly at her forehead. Of course, as time slowed drastically, she knew what would happen now. They were in so deep, that something like this would collapse the levels, leaving beside nothing but dust and a barren wasteland of buried memories. The sedative was too strong, and she would be sent on an express trip to Limbo, all expenses paid.

Time stopped.

In that infinitesimally small moment before the trigger was twitched, Ariadne saw something crazy. Arthur was struggling violently against his own subconscious, throwing off one projection after another. He was single minded and frightening. Whipping around in a spinning kick, he pulled his own gun from nowhere and quickly began to fire. When he paused to take in the sight before him, his eyes widened. His mouth opened and started to form her name. Then he put the gun to his own head.

And everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, I have to apologize for being so inconsistent here…it's like, been ridiculous amounts of time since I have updated (I STILL BLAME CHEMISTRY CLASS) oh, and lack of ideas…**

**So any ideas/thoughts would be SO WELCOME! Love you guys :))**

She was in a world of sun, light, and confusion. A beautifully composed rushing sound wound its way through her ears as she lay on the sand, looking up into the endless blue sky. Who was she? How did she get here?

Questions for later.

She wondered idly if it was possible to get some dry clothes, and suddenly, impossibly, she was dry. Her light, bubbly laughter rang out over the empty beach. Some looming buildings lay above her, threatening to collapse. Oddly enough, she wasn't frightened or scared. She was…content.

She would stay forever. A memory attempted to surface…sometime before when she had visited this place desperately with -

"Ariadne?" The noise rang out in the silence, shattering the mist that had clung to her mind. She recognized that voice…

"Arthur…?" Everything rushed back like the tide as Arthur stood shakily above her, furtively glancing around him with a distrustful look in his eye. Ariadne raised herself up on her hands, and every movement seemed controlled, slow, and carful. As if she was in a dream… "Arthur, what are you doing here?" Some panic had sneakily slipped its way into her voice.

"I have to…" He concentrated fiercely for a second, staring into the never ending distance of the sea before them. "To…do something." A light entered his cinnamon eyes as he remembered. "I have to bring you back, Ariadne." He sat down beside her, and she looked at him.

"Why?" Suddenly indifferent, she lay her head back onto the blinding white sand. It was lovely here, she decided. Why did Arthur always have to be such a buzz kill?

"It's important that we don't linger."

"I don't believe you." At her stubborn insistence, Arthur angrily ran his hand through his hair. He let out a deep breath and stared at the sky again. Of course, there were no clouds. It was eerily silent, but for the sound of the great expanse of water.

"Ariadne. We're still dreaming." He locked onto her shining blue eyes, hoping for some flicker of understanding, some glimmer of realization. Nothing. She just kept staring. He needed a response. "Did you really mean what you said…about love?" As soon as the question left his mouth, fear and regret tore its way through him. This was stupid, she was barely coherent. What was he _doing? _

"About love…?" She was misty, pulling herself up from the ground and wandering aimlessly towards the sand. "It's funny –" A laugh sang inside of her, and was released into the salty air. That effectively ended her train of thought as she began to run her fingers through the sand. Alarmed, Arthur noticed the earth above them bend to her will.

"This isn't safe…" Arthur muttered apprehensively. He needed to pull her out of the musty, foggy place her mind found itself in. If only he had thought this through before unceremoniously putting the gun to his own head. Without thinking of the repercussions, without considering his options properly, acting only on an instinct to preserve Ariadne's sanity, he walked right up to her and punched her in the face. With an emotional kind of pain that radiated throughout his body and refused to dissipate, he physically saw the trust drain from her eyes completely. The soft noise his fist made against her face radiated in his ears. Just for a moment, they remained still and motionless, both considering the magnitude of his blow. He knew she had stopped considering when Ariadne's blank look was replaced with fury. She was suddenly up, struggling with all her strength to run through the unforgiving sand.

"Ariadne – wait –" Arthur scrambled behind her, replaying what he had just done in his mind over and over until he could hardly think. _No,_ he fiercely reminded himself. _This is not real. We must get out before we are lost._ Ariadne kept running until her breath came in gasps, and she realized Arthur wasn't following anymore. She was about to sit down beside the sharp cliff face, but just as the thought entered her mind, she heard a resonating crack from above. Her eyes slowly looked up into the heavens, just in time to see a boulder crumble and fall straight for her.


End file.
